


The Wolves

by untouchablerave



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Alternative Sexuality, Angst, Based on an Adele Song, Emotional, M/M, Missing Scene, Romance, Secret Relationship, Songfic, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:14:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29754603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untouchablerave/pseuds/untouchablerave
Summary: “Sorry, I was thinking about…” Humphrey said, trailing off and clearing his throat. “You know.”“You’ve gone red,” said Jack, and nodded towards Humphrey’s face.“It’s the wine.”“Yes, I’m sure it is,” Jack countered, taking a sip from his own glass.Jack and Humphrey meet in London trying to solve the murder of Tom Lewis. Set during S6E6 and beyond.
Relationships: Humphrey Goodman/Jack Mooney
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some original scenes from the episode have been changed or altered.

Now

_Hello, it's me  
I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet  
To go over everything  
They say that time's supposed to heal ya  
But I ain't done much healing._

_\- Hello_

**Humphrey**

Humphrey picked up the phone in his office, and on hearing the dial tone on the other end, swiftly put the receiver down again. He looked around the office, making sure no one else was around and seeing only the shadows that the streetlights were making. The silence was good. In the quiet, he could think. But he’d spent enough time thinking. Now he had to act.

Humphrey composed himself, inhaling deeply, then exhaling. He had to do this. He _wanted_ to do this. Humphrey owed Jack Mooney one last phone call. He picked up the phone again and dialled the number without thinking ahead, without thinking about what he was going to say or whether Jack would even pick up. It rang three times before Jack answered.

“Hello?”

He sounded happy. Humphrey didn’t know if that made this better or worse.

“Hi,” was all that Humphrey could say. He prayed that Jack would know it was him. He couldn’t bear the idea of Jack having forgotten the sound of his voice.

After a second or two, Humphrey heard Jack finally start to breathe again. “Humphrey,” Jack said. It wasn’t punctuated with any particular emotion, but an acknowledgment nonetheless. That, he could work with.


	2. Chapter 2

Then

_I like it in the city when the air is so thick and opaque_   
_I love it to see everybody in short skirts, shorts and shades_   
_I like it in the city when two worlds collide._

_\- Hometown Glory_

**Humphrey**

The rain pattered against the windowpane of the King’s Arms pub, as Humphrey Goodman stared through it with his head resting on his fist. He watched the boats pass along the Thames, his mind going around and around, thinking about the murder of Tom Lewis, thinking about London, thinking about Jack Mooney. What an enigma his newest colleague seemed. He usually had the measure of people within a few seconds of meeting them, but Jack had stumped him. Suddenly, a pint of Guinness appeared in front of him.

“Oh, thanks,” Humphrey said, sitting back in his chair, letting Jack place it on the table in front of him.

“You’re welcome,” said Jack, sliding through the space between his own chair opposite and the table.

Humphrey raised the pint glass to his lips, smelling the thick liquid inside, and then took a big gulp. It made him shiver in delight. “Good grief,” he grinned, wiping the foam from his lip with the back of his hand. “That’s the first pint I’ve had in a long time,” he said, gasping with satisfaction.

“I assume Guinness isn’t a house special in Saint Marie,” laughed Jack. “Cheers,” he said, holding out his wine glass

Humphrey raised his, and the two men clinked their glasses together. “Cheers,” Humphrey echoed. “To new colleagues and new cases.”

“Quite,” Jack nodded. “This one is quite the case, isn’t it?”

“It is. It’s going to be a handful, I think,” said Humphrey, sitting back, once again trying to get the measure of Jack.

Earlier in the day, when questioning Steve Thomas, it seemed Jack and Humphrey had communicated almost wordlessly to each other from either end of the table. This was something, that in Humphrey’s mind, took years to achieve with anyone else had previously worked with. And when he conspired with Jack to answer the call to Frank Henderson’s phone, Humphrey could feel the light in his eyes dancing devilishly. He’d missed that.

“Dare I say it’s going to be fun?” scoffed Jack, as he sipped his wine.

“The thrill of a new case is always my favourite part,” confessed Humphrey, taking another long sip of his pint. “So much left to uncover. So much mystery. So much at stake.”

“I imagine Saint Marie is quite tame compared to London?” Jack asked.

“Not always,” Humphrey shook his head. “We’ve seen some dark things. But I will admit there is a grit to London life that is hard to replicate. Saint Marie is, usually, the opposite,” said Humphrey.

Jack smiled to himself and the two men sat contently in each other’s company for a few moments. Humphrey studied Jack again, as the man watched a group playing pool nearby. It seemed Jack always had a gentle smile on his face. His energy was so serene that Humphrey could feel his heartbeat slow to a gentle solid rhythm. That was new. Humphrey usually thrived on his anxiety-ridden adrenalin. 

“You should come and visit sometime,” he said, gently, still sitting back in his chair, his eyes still on Jack.

Jack turned his attention to Humphrey and said without missing a beat, “I’d like that, you know.” 


	3. Chapter 3

_Didn't I give it all,  
Tried my best,  
Gave you everything I had,  
Everything and no less?  
Didn't I do it right?  
Did I let you down?_

_\- Take It All_

**Jack**

Jack and Humphrey sat in the car outside, waiting for Steve Thomas to make his appearance. Every now and again, Jack would give a cursory look into the wing mirror, just to make sure, but truly his attention was on the fact that he and Humphrey were alone together. Jack felt hyper-aware of the fact that Humphrey was sitting only a few inches away from him. He could get like that sometimes. He hardly knew the man, and besides, what would they talk about? They could be here all night.

“So, your daughter, does she have any brothers or sisters?” asked Humphrey, breaking the silence.

“No, just the one,” Jack shook his head but kept his eyes on his wing mirror. “I’d have liked more…”

“It’s never too late,” replied Humphrey.

“Nah, my wife, she was ill for a long time,” explained Jack, looking down. “We lost her last year.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Humphrey, reaching out and touching the back of Jack’s hand.

Jack gulped. Humphrey’s hand was warm. “Ah no, don’t be sorry now,” he said, as Humphrey took his hand away. “I was a lucky man to have her for as long as I did. She was an amazing woman. Putting up with me for a start. No mean feat I can tell you.”

“That’s a great way to think about it.”

“There’s no other way,” Jack insisted. “She had a good heart, you know. Kind.” Jack cleared his throat. “What about you, Humphrey, are you married at all?”

“Not anymore, no,” he said. “It’s for the best.”

“Nobody since? No?”

“One,” said Humphrey, holding up his index finger.

“Oh.”

“Sort of a holiday romance, I suppose,” he continued. “But it wasn’t right. I knew that. She knew that. There was a lot I felt like I couldn’t share with her.”

“Like what?” Humphrey’s head lolled in Jack’s direction. Jack looked up at Humphrey, noticing just how long Humphrey’s eyelashes were. “Sorry, that’s a bit of a personal question.”

“Not at all,” said Humphrey, his voice almost a whisper. “There’s something I’ve been pushing away about myself for a while now and I’ve wrestled with it for long enough, but I could never tell her.”

“Did you love her?”

“I think I did for a while,” nodded Humphrey. “But it was me that needed time to reflect. I needed time on my own. She was lovely.”

The two men returned to silence, watching the passers-by. “You know you were talking about your wife, Jack?”

“Yes.”

“Not that I’m claiming to know anything about what you’ve been through but…” Humphrey trailed off, looking out of the window. “I realised something about myself and once I let myself accept it; everything was different. How do you reconcile with yourself once everything changes?” 

Jack turned in his seat and faced Humphrey. He wanted to reach out and take Humphrey’s hand in his, but it was awkward, the angle and being in the car. “My grandfather told me a story once about these two wolves fighting inside all of us. And one of them is anger… envy… self-pity… regret… And the other one is love… truth… faith… hope… that sort of thing. And I asked him, which one of the wolves would win? Do you know what he said? The one you feed.”

Humphrey nodded to himself, gently. “Thanks,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.


	4. Chapter 4

_You've been on my mind  
I grow fonder every day,  
Lose myself in time  
Just thinking of your face  
God only knows  
Why it's taken me so long  
To let my doubts go  
You're the only one that I want._

_\- One and Only_

**Jack**

With Steve Thomas apprehended and put in custody, Jack and Humphrey had turned to each other almost simultaneously and said “pub?”. Jack felt his cheeks flush for a moment. Were they really falling into some kind of routine already? After everyone giggled at Jack and Humphrey’s apparent telepathic connection, Florence went back to the hotel to call her parents, and Dwayne ventured to Hackney again, leaving Jack and Humphrey alone. Again.

This time, they got a seat next to the fire, so Jack dared to take his coat off as he was no longer being assaulted by the draft wafting through from the back door. Humphrey found a deck of playing cards on the mantlepiece, challenging Jack to a game of Go Fish.

“Shall we go and get some food?” asked Humphrey, checking his watch.

“I know a great place near the National Theatre,” said Jack, thumbing towards the general direction.

They grabbed their coats and exited to the South Bank, where the sun was setting on the horizon. Humphrey and Jack walked along beside the river.

“I really shouldn’t have had that third pint,” confessed Humphrey. “I’ve got nothing in my stomach and my legs are feeling like jelly.”

Jack laughed. “It’s your fault. You went to the bar whilst I was in the toilet,” he smirked, elbowing Humphrey lightly.

“I made an executive decision –,”

“Don’t blame me, come the morning,” Jack told him, wagging a finger in his direction. Humphrey smiled down at him, then the landscape caught his eye.

“Look at that, it’s beautiful!” he exclaimed. He turned on his heels and stopped to admire the sunset. “I forgot how much I love this place,” Humphrey sighed, shading his eyes with his hand.

“Aye, it’s grand,” agreed Jack, standing next to Humphrey. “When you’re here every day, sometimes all it takes are a fresh pair of eyes to realise just how lucky you are,” he said. Both men walked a few steps further and leaned against the half wall that banked the Thames.

Both men were still for a moment, admiring the view, soaking up the sounds of the city around them. Jack had tipped his head back and closed his eyes, feeling the golden glow wash over his face. It took a few seconds but eventually, Jack turned, feeling Humphrey’s eyes on him. He had a lazy smile on his face that Jack, in all his wisdom, knew that it meant Humphrey was about to kiss him. He inhaled as Humphrey leaned over, gently cupping the side of Jack’s face, and pressed his lips to his. They broke apart. Humphrey’s hand fell to Jack’s chest. He loved the feeling of Humphrey’s hand there, strong and reassuring.

Jack looked up at Humphrey. “I didn’t know…” he stuttered out. His voice had gone an octave higher than usual.

Humphrey smiled. “I didn’t tell you,” he said quietly.

Jack gulped. “Everything you said in the car is a lot clearer now,” he said.

Humphrey licked his lip. “Yes, well. I suppose it does.”

The two men turned and continued along the South Bank together. After a few steps, Jack cleared his throat and turned to Humphrey. “When we apprehended Steve Thomas earlier, you know, I was admiring your form. Do you run often?”

Humphrey laughed. “Admiring my form. Is that what we’re calling it?”

“Easy,” Jack snorted, but there was a tinge of reservation in his voice, that from the look on Humphrey’s face, he seemed to recognise. Jack stopped, reaching for Humphrey’s hand, pulling him to a stop.

Jack sighed. “Look, I don’t know what comes next –,”

“Neither do I,” Humphrey replied honestly, squeezing Jack’s hand. “So, let’s not worry about it,” he shrugged.

Jack didn’t know what to say except, “okay,” and the two continued walking.


	5. Chapter 5

_I miss you when the lights go out  
It illuminates all of my doubts  
Pull me in, hold me tight, don't let go  
Baby, give me light._

_\- I Miss You_

**Humphrey**

Humphrey closed the door to his hotel room and kicked off his shoes. He opened another button on his shirt, took off his jacket, and rolled up his sleeves. Then, he took off his belt and untucked his shirt. There, officially off the clock. For now.

He sat down on the bed and picked up the remote, switching the TV on. As he did so, his phone started ringing. Humphrey thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled it out, thinking there may be another development on the case. Jack was calling him.

“Jack,” Humphrey said, answering the call.

“Humphrey,” said Jack. There were cars driving around in the background. Humphrey checked his watch. Jack wouldn’t have arrived at his place in Stockwell just yet. “Listen, I know I’ve just left you but…” his voice trailed off.

“What is it? Are you okay?” asked Humphrey.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” said Jack.

Humphrey knew all too well the meaning of Jack’s directionless words that evaporated through the phone. There was a ‘ _but_ ’ coming, Humphrey could feel it, Jack just didn’t want to say it. 

“I’m at the Premier Inn by Waterloo. Room 606,” said Humphrey. “No pressure.”

Jack hung up the phone and Humphrey broke out in a hot sweat wondering if he had made a huge mistake. Perhaps Jack wasn’t ready. Maybe _he_ wasn’t ready. But twenty minutes later there was a knock at the door. Humphrey got up and opened it, revealing Jack standing there looking sheepish.

“I know that I said I didn’t know what came next but… I don’t think I want to wait to find out,” he said, softly.

“Come in,” Humphrey said, stepping aside. He closed the door behind Jack, and before he did anything else, he put his arms around him and held him close. This was new for both of them. Humphrey wanted to give Jack the reassurance he never had. No matter what happened, he was first and foremost Jack’s friend. That was all that mattered. He hoped he had conveyed that as he pressed Jack into his loving embrace. Jack was the perfect height to rest his head on Humphrey’s chest, and Humphrey rested his head on top of Jack’s.

“Let’s go and sit down,” muttered Humphrey, who led Jack by the hand to the side of the bed and sat down on the mattress. Jack sat next to Humphrey; hands still clasped together. They looked at each other, then Jack leaned in, pressing his lips softly to Humphrey’s. He let Jack linger for as long as he felt comfortable, attuning to his body language, feeling him pull away gently after a moment or two.

Humphrey let go of Jack’s hand, pushing the lapel of the man’s coat from around his shoulders and letting it fall to the bed. Humphrey hovered around Jack’s neck and jawline, dancing with the atmosphere before Jack arched his neck, allowing Humphrey’s pursed lips to trace themselves along the soft skin.

Jack’s hands cupped Humphrey’s face as he did so, fingers splayed across his jugular, feeling the rising heartbeat beneath his fingertips. Humphrey appeared before him again. They pressed their lips together with a deeper urgency than before. Quick breathes, chin to chin, hands tangled in hair.

Jack pulled away, looking down Humphrey’s slender frame. “Can I touch you?” he asked, almost stuttering.

Humphrey took Jack’s hand in his and pressed it to his crotch, groaning slightly at the touch.


	6. Chapter 6

_A jaw-dropper  
Looks good when he walks  
Is the subject of their talk  
He would be hard to chase  
But good to catch  
And he could change the world  
With his hands behind his back, oh._

_\- Daydreamer_

**Humphrey**

“When did you know?” Jack asked. The question shook Humphrey from his daydream. He had zoned out across the table from Jack in a very posh restaurant, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. He could still feel Jack’s hurried breath on his lips as he shuddered in the dim lamplight.

“Sorry, I was thinking about…” Humphrey said, trailing off and clearing his throat. “You know.”

“You’ve gone red,” said Jack, and nodded towards Humphrey’s face.

“It’s the wine.”

“Yes, I’m sure it is,” Jack countered, taking a sip from his own glass.

Humphrey smiled. “I guess on some level I’ve always known,” he said.

Jack nodded but said nothing further. Humphrey inhaled, held his breath for a second, and then exhaled, thinking better of asking everything in his heart that he wanted to know. It wasn’t his place.

“What is it, Humphrey?” Jack asked, gently.

Humphrey leaned on his elbow, sitting forward in his chair. Jack’s hand snaked across the table and took Humphrey’s other hand in his. “I just want to know everything, but I know I can’t ask that of you.”

Jack nodded. “I know. And if I thought I could make sense of it all, I’d tell you.”

Humphrey admired Jack for a moment. He was older, though not by much. His round, friendly face made Humphrey want to smile even before Jack spoke. His eyes were big and puppy-like and Humphrey knew he could listen to Jack speak for hours without needing to say a word.

“How do I make you feel?” Humphrey asked tentatively. He didn’t want to be the type that needed clarity of a situation. He wanted to be able to go with the flow. But the truth was Humphrey could never be cavalier about love and sex. It wasn’t his style.

Jack bit his lip, thinking for a moment. “You know when you’re out and you’re wearing your best suit that fits you just right and you have a glass of wine that just takes the edge off, and you feel a bit giddy… well… that’s it… that’s how you make me feel.”

“Giddy?”

“A bit, yeah,” said Jack. Humphrey gulped and nodded, bringing Jack’s hand up to his lips and planting a kiss on his knuckles. It was enough to placate his doubts. He hoped for Jack’s sake it would continue to be enough, at least for a while. “I’d like you to meet my daughter, Siobhan,” Jack said, after a moment. In Humphrey’s mind, this was the highest form of acceptance.

“I’d really like that, Jack,” whispered Humphrey, against Jack’s knuckles.

Jack cocked an eyebrow. “You do like to say my name a lot, don’t you?”

“I like how it sounds in my mouth,” said Humphrey, splaying Jack’s fingers against his lips. “Jack,” he whispered, muttering against them. “Jack,” he said, tracing Jack’s fingertips along his lips, daring to swipe his tongue across them. Humphrey could see the colour rising on Jack’s collar.

“How far away is the hotel?” Jack asked, breathlessly.

“I’ll pay. You hail a cab,” said Humphrey, grabbing his jacket.

It was raining again when Humphrey met Jack by the taxi outside. Jack was almost soaked through to the skin as the two darted into the back of the black cab.

“Waterloo, please,” said Humphrey to the driver before immediately turning to Jack, working at his tie, and kissing his neck.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Jack said, whispering in Humphrey’s ear. “Please stay.”

Saint Marie had been hanging over them for a few days now. For a moment, Humphrey didn’t respond but then sat back. “I don’t want to leave either,” he said.

Then, they clashed together like roaring waves in a storm.


	7. Chapter 7

_I let it fall, my heart  
And as it fell, you rose to claim it  
It was dark, and I was over  
Until you kissed my lips and you saved me._

_\- Set Fire to the Rain_

**Humphrey**

“Siobhan just texted. She’s just got off the tube, she won’t be long,” said Jack, as the two men entered the King’s Arms. 

“Shall we sit outside?” asked Humphrey, looking around the busy room.

“Yes, let’s get a table, and then we’ll get drinks when Siobhan gets here,” said Jack. Humphrey began shuffling past those waiting at the bar, then reached behind him to grab Jack’s hand to lead him through. As they stepped out through the back door, Humphrey didn’t drop Jack’s hand.

“Here?” asked Humphrey, pointing to a picnic bench that was free.

“Yeah,” said Jack, sitting down on one side and Humphrey on the other.

“I have something to tell you,” Humphrey began tentatively.

Jack’s face fell. “I don’t like sentences that start like that…”

Humphrey took Jack’s hands in his. “Sorry. It’s not bad. It’s good. I’m staying in London.”

Jack looked shocked. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” smiled Humphrey. “I told the Commissioner this morning. He’s sorting me out a transfer.”

Jack took a jagged inhale. “Wow.”

“I don’t want that to put pressure on –,”

“No, I know.”

“It’s entirely my own decision,” insisted Humphrey. “No matter what happens.”

Jack squeezed Humphrey’s hand. “I’m happy,” he said, then let go of Humphrey’s hand, wiping his palms on his thighs. “Siobhan should be here soon,” he gulped.

Humphrey nodded. “I’ll follow your lead,” he said, thinking for the first time in his life about what _not_ to say, rather than what _to_ say. 

“Thanks,” exhaled Jack. Humphrey could see he was nervous. “It’s not that I don’t… it’s just… well…”

“I know,” said Humphrey with a smile. “I know,” he said again, softer this time.

A minute later, a woman exited the back of the pub and approached Jack from behind, smiling at Humphrey. He assumed it was Jack’s daughter, Siobhan. She looked about late teens, or early twenties, with her Dad’s smile. Jack must have been young when he had her.

“Hi Dad,” she said, placing her hand on Jack’s shoulder.

“Ah, here she is,” he said, turning in his seat to her. “This is Humphrey Goodman.”

Humphrey got up and extended his hand to Siobhan, shaking hers firmly. “Very pleased to meet you,” he said.

“Dad’s told me all about you,” said Siobhan.

Jack looked concerned for a split second. “Only the good stuff,” he clarified.

“So, you’re Dad’s unofficial taxi?” smiled Humphrey.

“Yeah, whenever Dad needs to get home from the pub.”

“What can I get you?” asked Jack.

“Lemonade, please,” she replied.

“Alright,” said Jack, getting up from the bench. “Guinness?” he asked, pointing to Humphrey.

Humphrey nodded, and Siobhan took Jack’s place on the bench.

“Not seen him like this for a while,” said Siobhan with a smile.

“Yes, he told me about your Mum. I’m so sorry,” Humphrey replied.

“I bet he didn’t tell you it was only a month ago.”

Humphrey’s blood ran cold. A month ago? He had been on the Lewis case nearly two weeks. “Exactly a month ago?”

“More like two now I suppose,” mused Siobhan. “Time all seems to blur together when you’re grieving.”

“No. No, he didn’t tell me,” said Humphrey, feeling himself beginning to sweat.

“He thinks that if he makes it sound like it was a long time ago then people won’t feel so sorry for him,” said Siobhan, completely unaware of Humphrey’s inner turmoil. “So, how did you end up being a detective in the Caribbean?”

Humphrey pushed himself to engage and forced out a laugh. “Well, it’s a very long story.”

“With a happy ending, I hope.”

“I think that’s still in the balance,” said Humphrey, feeling the weight of his words dance across the knife edge.


	8. Chapter 8

_Under haunted skies I see you  
Where love is lost your ghost is found  
I braved a hundred storms to leave you  
As hard as you try, no, I will never be knocked down._

_\- Turning Tables_

**Jack**

“You didn’t tell me it was a month ago, Jack!” cried Humphrey as soon as Siobhan had disappeared down the steps to the tube. “Siobhan told me the truth. She told me that your wife died a month ago.”

The tone of Humphrey’s words stung Jack back into a cold, hard reality. He and Siobhan must have talked when Jack was at the bar, or in the toilet. He couldn’t be mad at Siobhan. She didn’t know that Humphrey wasn’t just a friend or just a colleague. Maybe he should have been honest with her about Humphrey? Maybe he was to blame? His thoughts started going around and around. He felt himself beginning to shut down.

“If it makes you feel any better, Humphrey, I don’t tell anyone it was a month ago,” countered Jack. He knew that it had been a risk meeting up with Siobhan and that she might reveal the truth about his wife, but his desire for Humphrey to get to meet Siobhan outweighed everything else.

“Well with all due respect, I don’t think I am just anyone. Not anymore,” said Humphrey, grabbing Jack by the wrist and turning him around.

“No, I’d agree with you there,” replied Jack, turning to face Humphrey. “You’re not just anyone which makes this all so much harder,” he said, feeling his voice break. Jesus, he needed to get a grip. Jack cleared his throat and composed himself.

“Am I some kind of experiment for you? Some kind of rebound?” asked Humphrey, dropping his voice slightly. “Because if that’s the case, I want to know. I think I deserve to know.”

“Humphrey, I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t know what this is. I don’t know what I’m doing,” said Jack.

Humphrey shook his head and inhaled deeply, hands on his waist. “I just wish you’d told me,” he said, sounding exasperated.

“I couldn’t. And that’s my issue, not yours.” Jack had to get out of here. He could feel the panic rising in his chest, the heat spreading across his neck. “I can’t do this,” he muttered. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this right now.”

“What do you mean?” asked Humphrey, grabbing the front of Jack’s jacket. “Jack, don’t do this, please. I’m sorry,” Humphrey cried, trying to cup Jack’s face, but Jack only felt more suffocated, more constricted, and wriggled out of his grasp.

“Maybe we should take a break from… this… whatever we are,” he said, hardly able to breathe.

“What are we, Jack?”

“I have to go,” said Jack, slipping through Humphrey’s grasp and walking back inside the tube station, down the stairs, and through the crowd.

This wasn’t how Jack wanted things to go. This wasn’t how he wanted it to be between them, but the panic was setting in, crashing over him and he had to just go. Walking was helping, the buzz of the crowd was helping. He just needed it all to stop. He turned around, wondering if Humphrey had followed him, but he couldn’t see him. Part of him wanted to run back, but he was the other side of the barriers now, and if Humphrey hadn’t followed him…

Perhaps it was a kind of punishment that there wouldn’t be any signal on the underground. Now he was forced to be with his thoughts instead of running away from them.


	9. Chapter 9

_The scars of your love remind me of us  
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all  
The scars of your love, they leave me breathless  
I can't help feeling  
We could have had it all._

_\- Rolling in the Deep_

**Humphrey**

Humphrey had, as usual, ruined everything. As he walked back along the South Bank towards his hotel, he suppressed the urge to cry. He couldn’t make up his mind whether or not to be hopeful that his first fight with Jack hadn’t included any shouting, or miserable that they’d had a fight at all.

Maybe this whole thing had been a blessing in disguise. Did he really want to be a rebound for Jack? An experiment? Something that was so wholly different from his previous life with his wife? Not really. Humphrey had done enough experimenting at university to know that all did was leave him hollow and unloved. He had spent his whole life feeling unloved and unwanted. Why would he choose that for himself?

Humphrey let himself into his hotel room and sat down on the edge of the bed again. He checked his phone. Nothing. Not even a text from Jack. He wasn’t expecting an apology. Maybe he should be the one to apologise? He opened his text app and then went to Jack’s name. The last message they sent to each other was one saying, ‘ _Goodnight x_ ’.

‘ _I’m sorry xx_ ’ Humphrey wrote, then pressed send and turned the TV on. Maybe he should call Jack in the morning. After an hour or so of channel flicking, there was still no reply from Jack. Humphrey knew he would be home by now and started to feel irritated that he’d not had a reply. The ticks next to Humphrey’s message meant that Jack had read it.

Humphrey went to his contacts and searched _S_. He dialled the number and after a few rings it picked up. “Commissioner, hi,” he said, getting up off the bed and pacing around the room. “Humphrey Goodman here, calling from London.”

“Humphrey!” said Selwyn. His voice was slightly crackled but generally, the reception was good.

“I’m sorry to be calling so late, sir,” said Humphrey, quickly checking his watch and converting the time.

“Not a problem. I’m glad to hear from you. I’m so sorry to be losing you from Saint Marie,” said Selwyn. “Is this about your transfer?”

“Well, that’s just it, sir,” stumbled Humphrey. “I was wondering if I could retract my resignation. I’ve had a change of heart, I think.”

“I’m sorry Humphrey,” replied the Commissioner after a second. “Truly, I am. But the position has now been filled.”

“Oh. Well, I was afraid of that,” nodded Humphrey, feeling his heart sink. “Can I ask by whom?”

“By DI Jack Mooney. He said how highly you spoke of the Caribbean and said you’d had a great time working together on the Lewis case,” said Selwyn.

Humphrey gripped the phone tighter. “Jack Mooney?” Humphrey asked, trying to hide the shock from his voice, his breath turning heavier.

“Yes, he only had good things to say about you when we last spoke.”

“I’m happy for him,” said Humphrey, stoically. “He’s going to be a great asset to your team. Sorry to have bothered you.”

“If anything changes, Humphrey, you’ll be the first to know,” said Selwyn.

“Thank you, sir. Give my best to Jack,” Humphrey said through gritted teeth.

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Humphrey immediately searched for _J_ in his contacts. It rang three times before going to voicemail. ‘ _Hi, this is DI Jack Mooney. Please leave your message after the beep._ ’

Humphrey felt the anger inside of him. “You begged me to stay and then you fucking left me and TOOK MY JOB,” he roared into the silence.


	10. Chapter 10

Now

_When will I see you again?  
You left with no goodbye.  
Not a single word was said,  
No final kiss to seal any sins.  
I had no idea of the state we were in._

_\- Don’t You Remember_

**Humphrey**

“I’m sorry I never called,” said Jack.

Humphrey sat back in his chair and sighed. Jack wasn’t swearing at him down the phone, which was the best he could have hoped for. “I never expected you to call,” he said quietly. “Not after… that voicemail I left you. I’m sorry about that.”

“I understood why you were angry,” replied Jack. “I’m sure you still are.”

“Not anymore,” said Humphrey truthfully, cradling the phone against his face. “I wanted to call – well, I’ve wanted to call before but never had the courage to do so – I wanted to call and say I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” replied Jack. “I wish things had ended differently between us.”

Humphrey gulped, twisting the cord of the phone around his finger. “In truth Jack, I wish things hadn’t ended at all.”

That was his final card. He could hear Jack breathing on the other end of the line. “Me too,” he said, quietly. 

Humphrey closed his eyes, letting the words wash over him. “I wish we could have worked things out. Why didn’t we just talk about it?”

“Because we were scared,” replied Jack.

Humphrey could feel the tears welling up in his eyes, but this time he didn’t stop them from falling. “I loved you, Jack. God, I loved you.”

“I know,” said Jack, and Humphrey could hear he was crying as well.

“I still do,” admitted Humphrey. It was all out on the table now. He had nothing left to lose and everything left to give that he should have given Jack way back when. “I still love you, Jack. I can’t pretend that I don’t. I’m not saying this with any expectation because I know we’ve been over for a while now, but I have to tell you, at least once, or it’s going to eat me up inside. It will kill me.”

Humphrey cried harder, thankful that he had waited until everyone had gone home to make the call. He didn’t have to be ashamed of the sound of his tears as his chest heaved out everything it had been holding on to.

Eventually, his heart rate slowed, and he could hear Jack sniffling on the other end.

“Say my name, Humphrey,” Jack whispered. “Say my name again.”

Humphrey exhaled and closed his eyes again, remembering how it felt to press Jack’s fingers to his lips, especially in the fractured light of the moon that cast shadows around the hotel room, where every curve of Jack’s body was a place to be explored. He remembered how it felt to run his tongue along Jack’s fingertips. “Jack,” he breathed down the receiver. “Jack,” he said, letting the letters dance along his tongue.

“Will you come and see me?” asked Jack after a few moments. “Please.”

“I want to, but I can’t afford a ticket to Saint Marie right now. I just got a new place,” said Humphrey, wiping his eyes.

“I’m not in Saint Marie,” Jack replied. “I’m in London.”

“You are?”

“Yeah, I’ve not long been back actually,” said Jack, clearing his throat. “Hey, where’s your new place? Anywhere nice?”

“Near the South Bank,” said Humphrey, with a smile. 


	11. Chapter 11

_I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited  
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it.  
I had hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded  
That for me it isn't over._

_\- Someone Like You_

**Jack**

The King’s Arms wasn’t busy at this time of day. Jack had taken a few hours off from his PTO because meeting Humphrey in the canteen of the Met just didn’t sit right with him. No. It had to be here. They sat at their favourite table next to the fireplace, where the flames licked and lapped at the brickwork. The deck of cards was still there on the mantelpiece but neither of them reached for it.

“Thank you for seeing me,” said Jack, fiddling with the end of his tie. “I feel like I should apologise again."

“You don’t owe me anything,” Humphrey shook his head. “It was me that needed to apologise to you.”

“No, you didn’t,” Jack said, with a sigh. “I was just as much to blame as you.”

“Why did you go to Saint Marie?” asked Humphrey.

Jack thought about his response for a moment, taking a sip of his wine. It was a question he had asked himself over and over again, and never coming to any definite conclusion. “I loved my time in Saint Marie,” he began. “Florence really looked after me and we had some great officers. I was sad to see Dwayne go but… what I mean to say is, I don’t think I went to Saint Marie for the right reasons,” said Jack. “I was running from everything. I wanted to leave everything behind and just breathe for a minute… God, I hadn’t felt like I could breathe for years. But Saint Marie was just a plaster over a much bigger wound. It wouldn’t heal until I faced that.”

Humphrey nodded. Jack eyed him for a moment, knowing that when he bit his lip, really, he was eager to talk but felt like he couldn’t. “It’s okay, Humphrey. You can ask me anything. I don’t want to lie to you, or myself.”

Humphrey’s eyes shimmered. “Why did you leave me?” he asked.

Jack reached out across the table and took Humphrey’s hands in his. “Do you really think I left you?” he asked, feeling his own emotion rise in his throat. “I went to the only place in the world where I couldn’t escape you. I lived at the Shack that was filled top to bottom with your stuff, where all your clothes hung in the wardrobe, where your ghost still walked every day. I spent my time wallowing in the mere idea of you.” Jack reached out and wiped a tear from Humphrey’s cheek. Humphrey angled his cheek towards Jack’s palm, which Jack caressed for a moment. “I never left you, Humphrey. Not really.”

“Did you think about what my life was like back here without you?” asked Humphrey, a tinge of bitterness to his voice. Jack deserved that, he thought. “Picking up the pieces of what we had.”

“Of course, I did,” replied Jack, his voice barely even a whisper. “I thought about it every day. Every day.”

Jack couldn’t hold on much longer and let the tears cascade over his cheeks. Humphrey moved his chair around the table, nearer to Jack, and put his arms around him. Jack collapsed into Humphrey’s embrace, letting him be held as he cried. Cried for what was lost, what had passed, and what could have been.

“I know your life was simple before we met,” whispered Humphrey in Jack’s ear. “I know I came in and turned everything upside down for you, and for that I’m sorry –,”

“Don’t you dare apologise,” said Jack, raising his head from Humphrey’s arms. “Don’t apologise for the life we could have had together.”

“We can still have it. If that’s what you want?” said Humphrey, looking at Jack.

Jack inched forward and pressed his lips to Humphrey’s, cupping his face and brushing his thumbs gently across Humphrey’s jawline.


	12. Chapter 12

_Let me photograph you in this light  
In case it is the last time  
That we might be exactly like we were  
Before we realized  
We were sad of getting old  
It made us restless  
It was just like a movie  
It was just like a song._

_\- When We Were Young_

**Jack**

The sun was setting, glowing over the horizon, just like it had been that day. Humphrey and Jack turned to each other and smiled, remembering that day in their mind’s eye. In that split second, in some ways, it had felt like no time had passed at all. They were still just two nervous guys on the South Bank, waiting for the other one to kiss them.

“I grieved for my wife long before she died, you know,” said Jack quietly. “She suffered for so long and we knew we were going to lose her. I watched her deteriorate day after day… and in the end, when she died, I was relieved.”

Jack inhaled and then exhaled out a sob, one he had been suppressing since her diagnosis. Humphrey stepped forward and held him tightly. “She would be so proud of you,” he said in Jack’s ear. “You have raised Siobhan into a bright young woman and carrying on in the wake of your grief is admirable.”

Jack continued to cry. It was all just so sad. He cried for his wife. He cried for their marriage. He cried for Siobhan and the idea that she would have to live without her Mum for the rest of her life. He cried for himself. For what he had been through, and what he had endured. He cried for the child inside of him who was just trying to find his way through. He cried for his mistakes, for his triumphs, and then inhaled Humphrey’s scent and cried for him too.

Eventually, his sobs subsided, and he pulled away from Humphrey, who cupped Jack’s cheeks and wiped away his tears with his thumbs. “I’ve thought a lot about something you said, Humphrey,” Jack sniffled.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “You asked me ‘how do you reconcile with yourself once everything changes?’”

“And you told me about the wolves?” replied Humphrey.

“Yeah, and I stand by what I said. But the truth is, you can never reconcile with yourself until you go home again,” said Jack. “You have to go back to the start, back to where it all began, and give yourself the grace to heal from whatever happened. And then I realised when you called me, and I heard your voice again, that you make me feel like I’m coming home.”

Humphrey cocked his head and smiled, then lowered his head, allowing Jack’s words to digest. He composed himself, then lifted his head to meet Jack’s eyes again. “Which one?” he asked, his voice wavering.

“What do you mean?”

“Which wolf are you feeding now?” he asked. “I mean, I replayed most of our conversations, our interactions, searching for clues or signs, trying to decode what happened. But I realised I never asked you then, so I should probably ask you now. Which wolf are you feeding, Jack?” 

Jack took a breath. “I told Siobhan about us, Humphrey.”

Humphrey looked shocked. “You did?”

Jack nodded. “I told her everything.”

“What did she say?” he asked.

“She was surprised at first,” replied Jack. “And then naturally had a lot of questions about whether I’d really loved her mother, which I did, of course. I understand why she thought that you know. So, we talked, and I tried to explain as best I could. Ultimately, I think she understands.”

Humphrey cupped Jack’s face. “That’s great, Jack. That’s amazing. I’m sure she’s so proud of you.”

“Yeah,” Jack breathed, wrapping his arms around Humphrey’s waist, and resting his head on his chest. He turned and watched the sun, content in Humphrey’s arms, content to just be. “So, where do we go now?” he asked, gently.

Humphrey pulled away from Jack and held out his hand, who looked down and held it tightly. “Home,” Humphrey said, simply. “We go home.”

They turned and began walking along the South Bank, with the sun on their backs and a light in their hearts. And Jack thought, as he closed his eyes, allowing the moment to wash over him, that this is exactly what paradise truly felt like.


End file.
